


Two Sided Lover

by grandpajumpersandeyelashes



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Poetry, Secret Santa, genderqueer!Kieren, holiday fic giveaway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandpajumpersandeyelashes/pseuds/grandpajumpersandeyelashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is the new kid at school, joining at a strange time, just a few weeks before Christmas break. He is brought in as a friend by an unusual group, an awkward but friendly boy Philip, a bouncy and enthusiastic girl Amy, a sometimes grouchy jock Rick, and Kieren Walker, who he never knew to expect in a flower crown and a skirt or in masculine punk gear. Thanks to a Secret Santa selection, he has to make something for the person who he finds himself quickly falling for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Sided Lover

**Author's Note:**

> The winner of my fic giveaway was my follower on tumblr, URL of plaiddoctor, who requested something I had been toying with the idea of for a while, of a genderqueer Kieren in a high school AU. I have to apologize to them for taking a lot of liberties with the prompt, failing to add a few things because of how the story took me, but I hope everyone still enjoys it!

“What do you think of the new kid?” Rick asked, eyes following the pale boy clad in an oversized jumper as he walked past their lunch table.

“Haven’t talked to him.” Kieren shrugged, picking at their salad.

“There you are, gorgeous!” Amy said happily, setting something on her friend’s head. “Made it myself.” She told them proudly as Kieren grabbed it, examing the flower crown Amy had placed there.

“Thanks, Amy.” Kieren blushed, putting it back on. Amy helped them get their hair in place so it sat right on their head. “Even matches my skirt, how’d you know?” they asked with a grin.

Amy scoffed, “I know my BFF!” she proclaimed, squeezing their cheek. “And I know it’s your fave, so I knew you’d wear it sooner or later.” she told them before waving down a confused looking Philip. “Poor thing is so lost without me.” she laughed when he finally spotted them.

Philip gave them a quick smile before sitting next to Rick, across from his girlfriend of three months. “Hey guys.” he said.

“You might actually have an opinion, Lippy.” Rick started. Philip closed his eyes, sighing in slight frustration at Rick’s old nickname for him. “What do you think of the new kid?”

Philip looked towards the table where the new student sat alone, opening a book before eating some of the chips from his tray. “He’s Irish, think his name is Simon?” Philip shrugged. “Bit odd that he came here so close to Christmas break.”

“Not what I meant, but alright.” Rick laughed at his strange friend. “I heard he got kicked out of his last school.” he whispered, leaning towards the middle of the school. “Fighting, I reckon. Gary might have met his match if it’s true.”

Amy looked at Rick skeptically after a quick glance back at him. “Doesn’t look like the fighting type at all, you idiot.” she told him. “I’d recognize that book anywhere. If you were cultured, you’d know it was a book of poetry.”

“Could be for homework.” Rick defended himself. “He’s big enough, he looks like the fighting type.”

“The only type he looks like is Kieren’s.” Amy challenged.

Next to her, Kieren’s jaw dropped slightly, just a bit of their water slopping slightly out of their mouth at their friend’s comment. “Amy!” they exclaimed after properly swallowing their water.

Rick was giving her a facing begging “What the fuck?” as she suggested that the person she knew he shared a mutual crush with would have a type that wasn’t him. She knew it was more than just a little crush too, they were all but dating, the only thing really stopping them being Rick’s dad. “How’d you feel if I said something like that about Philip?” he asked her.

“Least he’s taken me on a proper date and doesn’t mind people knowing about us.” she retorted.

“Ren knows why... Doesn’t mind, do you Ren?” he asked, turning towards his... Well, he didn’t know exactly what to call Ren. Just his Ren, he supposed. That’s what mattered, as far as he was concerned. Either way, they nodded in agreement.

Amy stood. “Good, then you won’t mind this, will you Rick?” she asked, walking off with her skirts swishing behind her.

“What the hell is she doing?” Rick asked, watching her approach the jumper-clad student. He turned to Philip and Kieren. “Is she always like this?” he implored. Most days Rick didn’t sit with the trio, rather sitting with his football team, but every once in a while he would join them for lunch. A lot of the time, that was the day Amy chose to sit with some of her girl friends, never really fond of Rick.

Philip and Kieren both only shrugged, watching her talk to the other boy. Something must have encouraged him, as he picked up his food and followed Amy back to their table. When they drew closer, both Kieren and Philip returned their gazes to their own food, though Rick remained staring the pair down as they approached.

“Scoot over, dumb dumb.” Amy prodded Kieren’s side as her new nervous looking friend hovered uncertainly over the table. “Gang, this is Simon, Simon, this is the gang, my beau Philip, Rick, and of course my moregeous BFF Kieren.” she told him after insisting her take the spot between herself and Kieren.

“Nice to meet you, Simon.” Philip smiled, seeming to be trying to please his girlfriend with his friendliness.

Simon smiled back nervously. “Nice to meet you too.” he said in a thick Irish accent as he settled into his spot.

“So, what were you reading over there?” Amy asked him, though she knew already.

A blush rose over Simon’s cheeks. “The Collected Poems of WB Yeats.” he admitted.

“Oh, you like poetry?” Amy asked. “I love Yeats, but I’m a bit more partial to Dickinson and Plath myself.”

Simon nodded. “I read some and I write some.”

Amy smiled, looking around Simon to see Kieren whose brown eyes were staring at him, flashing interest at the idea. “So you’re the artsy type too? Kieren’s a natural Picasso with a paintbrush.” she bragged her friend up.

“That so?” Simon asked, genuinely interested as he looked to the other on his right, noting the blush that arose on their cheeks. A small smile crept onto his face at the endearing sight.

“Ren’s favorite artist is van Gogh though, so probably would use him in that metaphor.” Rick added, as if trying to prove a point to Amy, who only pulled a face.

“Van Gogh? He’s one of my favorites too.” Simon told Kieren. Unbeknownst to him were the faces Rick was making as he spoke, jealousy painted across his features. “What’s your favorite thing about his work?” he asked, knowing that picking a favorite work was often nearly impossible.

Kieren thought for a moment. “I like the texture he puts in there, adds to the emotion of the paintings. I really like how he uses his lines. What about you, what do you like about... Yeats, was it?” Kieren asked.

Simon nodded. “Like his lines too, I suppose.” he looked down, still facing mostly towards Kieren when Amy begged him to share his favorite lines. Without any introduction, he spoke clearly, as if he had rehearsed the lines over and over again. “I balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breath, a waste of breath the years behind, in balance with this life, this death.”

Rick was looking at Simon like he was absolutely insane, while Philip seemed to be trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Amy looked more perplexed than anything, but Simon didn’t notice any of their expressions. What he saw was the look of understanding that washed over Kieren’s face as the bell rang, sending them to class. Simon knew that look. It was the look of someone who knew what it felt like to feel like Simon had for so long.

\---

“Your sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” Simon asked the table of his new found friends (and Rick... He couldn’t seem to win him over for some reason).

“‘Course not, silly! The more the merrier, Nan said. Could always use another person or two at a party, you know!” Amy insisted. “Please, Simon? You could probably win the ugly jumper contest...” She teased, tugging at the one he wore that day.

Simon frowned, looking down at his shirt, not understanding what Amy meant by her comment. “My jumpers are fine, it’s cold out there.” he protested. “They aren’t that bad, are they Kieren?” he asked as they joined the table.

“They’re a bit horrendous.” Kieren pointed out with a smile. 

Today they wore a leather jacket with black skinny jeans and clunky combat boots, a thin line of black eyeliner surrounding each of their eyes as if they needed more attention drawn to them. Simon couldn’t help but remember the first day he had seen the Kieren he had been introduced to in a skirt in flower crown dressed in the unfamiliar punk clothes. He had been surprised, mostly because when he first saw them like that, he realized that he was incredibly attracted to them whether they were dressed in a traditionally feminine way or a more masculine way. The eyeliner still caught him every time, something he realized as his friend was still looking at him, expecting a response.

“Fine, if you say so.” he grumbled good heartedly. He turned back towards Amy. “I don’t even know everyone who’s going, I’d feel like I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

“The Christmas party at Amy’s Nan’s bungalow?” Kieren asked, trying to piece together the conversation. Simon nodded in confirmation. “You basically know everyone, really. We aren’t exactly the most social group. It’d just be us, Amy, Philip, Rick might pop in, and Amy’s invited my little sister Jem and a few of her friends, Lisa and Henry. You know almost everyone.”

Simon, admittedly, was only half listening after Kieren had referred to the two of them collectively as ‘us’, rather than two separate people. They could have said ‘us’ and meant the entire table, but they mentioned Amy, Philip, and even Rick separately. His heart fluttered in his chest as he tried to hide the excitement he felt. “Alright, I’ll come.” he agreed, trying to feign some remaining reluctance.

“Yay!” Amy said, pulling out her notebook and ripping a small piece of paper out. “Now we can actually pick our secret santa!” she said excitedly, writing ‘Simon Monroe’ in her loopy handwriting. “I’ll even let you take first pick!” she told him, tossing his name into the Santa hat she produced from her bag along with the other scraps of paper in there.

Simon looked at Kieren who could only shrug at Amy’s antics. All the time they had been friends and they still couldn’t predict their BFF. Simon closed his eyes, reaching his hand in, before sighing and withdrawing it without a slip in his hand.

“I can’t, Amy... My dad won’t trust me with money to get anyone anything.” he admitted, embarrassed. The only comfort that he felt was that the look on Amy’s face wasn’t judgemental, but rather her usual friendly smile.

“Don’t worry, worrywart! We have a strict homemade gifts only policy at the Dyer household annual Christmas party.” she told him.

“Alright.” he agreed, sliding his hand in the hat and drawing out a slip.

“Look away, Kieren Walker! You can’t compromise the integrity of Secret Santa!” Amy scolded when she say that they were still watching Simon. “Now you can look.” Amy teased when Kieren shielded their eyes in an exaggerated manner.

Simon looked at the slip, nodding to himself. Luckily, he actually knew the person he drew, so that would make life a little simpler. He watched as Kieren reached into the hat, his view disrupted as Amy covered his eyes for him as they read the name as well. She moved her hand in time for him to see Kieren smile and they tucked the slip away in their pocket.

\---

There was a small tree near the entry of the living room that amy insisted everyone drop their gifts off at as soon as they entered to try to keep the secret going as long as possible. “It’s more fun to guess!” she insisted, covering her eyes each time she opened the door to ensure that she didn’t see the wrapping that covered their gift.

The room was filled with laughter, music, and just enough gaudy baubles to truly leave Amy’s mark on the place. Ever a gracious host, she floated amongst her guests, offering cookies and eggnog as she danced in her green elf hat with matching leggings that she paired with her gaudy red jumper decorated with a tree.

As punishment for his choice to abstain from the jumper contest, she planted a santa hat on Philip’s hat before also planting a kiss to his lips, much to his surprise. “Mistletoe!” She smiled, pointing up.

“Alright everyone, alright! Time to open up your gifts now that the last straggler just found his way in!” Amy declared when Rick walked in with an apology and an unwrapped gift.  
“Uh, here you go, Henry.” He said awkwardly, holding a paper plate of brownies out to the younger boy before sitting next to Kieren, on the side that Simon wasn’t on, as he listened to their quiet conversation about something artsy. He rolled his eyes, trying not to care, but he could practically feel himself losing Kieren to Simon. Maybe it was for the better. They deserved someone who could love them openly. He wasn’t at a point that he could do that.

“Alright, one at a time now!” Amy declared. “And no telling who got who what! After you open it, just one guess, no confirmations or denials until everyone has opened them!” she firmly told them.

“Amy takes Secret Santa really seriously.” Kieren said quietly, leaning in towards Simon to explain.

“Alright... This one is for...” Amy read the tag before holding it out to “Philip!”

Philip smiled, tearing off the paper to reveal a small tray of Christmas cookies. He smiled, thanking whoever made them, but not offering a guess until Amy pouted about it. “Fine, fine... Lisa?” he guessed, not certain at all.

Next was Jem, opening a bracelet with a simple black cord and ‘JEM’ scratched into three wooden beads. She smiled, looking around the room, guessing Henry because of the way that he nervously looked around, practically admitting his guilt. She smiled sweetly at him when she put it on her left wrist. Lisa opened a hand knitted scarf, instantly knowing it was Amy’s handiwork. When Amy opened a beaded bracelet, she squinted at Jem, Lisa, and Kieren, finally deciding that it must have been Lisa’s creation. Rick opened cookies, shrugging and guessing Simon might have made them.

Kieren couldn’t help but feel some butterflies in their stomach when they saw that Amy was handing Simon the gift his “Secret Santa” had made for him. They only hoped that he wouldn’t perceive it as strange or even creepy that they had memorized their features enough in a few weeks to paint them reading their favorite book of poetry.

Simon breathed out in amazement as he looked to the canvas at a copy of himself immersed in the poetry book that had gotten him through more than the artist would ever have known. “Kieren.” He breathed like a prayer, reverence in his voice as he admired art and artist. “Thank you.”

Kieren had a pink tone in their cheeks as Amy handed over the final gift from the tree meant for them. They gingerly opened the package to find a composition notebook, ‘Kieren’ written carefully front and center, a slight loop in the ‘K’ that Kieren traced with their finger, a smile across their face.

When they opened the cover, they found on every page a different poem, each handwritten with a careful scrawl, neither messy nor neat, but so much care put in each word that their heart skipped a beat. There was one poem a page, the backs of each page left blank for them to add notes, another poem, or even drawings next to each poem, depending on what they inspired in them.

“Thank you, Simon.” Kieren smiled warmly at the other who was looking at them in wonder.

As the two sat in admiration, Amy had cleared her throat and revealed that she had in fact given the scarf to Lisa. Jem told Philip that she was his, and Philip said he was Rick’s. Henry admitted that Jem’s bracelet was from him, and Lisa said that Amy’s bracelet was from her.

Rick had to leave, he had told his dad he was just going for a short walk before coming back, so they all said their goodbyes. To his dismay, Kieren looked like they hadn’t wanted to drop Simon’s poetry book for long enough to even say a proper goodbye to the person who he had thought they considered their boyfriend, or close to it. When he got outside, though it stung, he took a deep breath, knowing it was for the best that Kieren found someone else before he left unannounced for basic training at the end of break, rather than school.

Philip had managed to peel Simon away from the painting and artist to help him get some more wood for the fire that Amy had forgotten to check that there was enough of. When they left, Amy let Kieren be, seeing how engrossed he was in the gift from Simon, and instead choosing to sit with the younger three who were laughing about something that had happened in school the previous week.

Electing to join his girlfriend when they got in, Philip went over to Amy, letting Simon sit alone with Kieren on the couch. There really was more room for Simon to sit with space between them, but something in him was bold that night. He sat so that his leg was, just slightly, brushing against Kieren’s. Before he could even speak, he was met with their incredible brown eyes.

“Simon, you labeled all of the poets except this one. Why not?” Kieren asked, holding the book where both of them could read it. Where both of them could almost rest their head on the other’s shoulder on accident.

Simon found himself blushing. “I wrote it.” he admitted.

Kieren smiled, looking back to the page. Suddenly conscious of the way their sleeve rode up with the way the book sat in his hands, they quickly tugged the sleeve down to their palm, shutting the book in the process.

“It’s alright, Kieren.” Simon breathed before pushing up his own sleeve to reveal dots that Kieren didn’t quite understand until Simon spoke again. “We all have our scars.”

“What did you take?” Kieren asked, unsure of themself once the words left their lips. Was it too straight forward?

“A through Z of the periodic table.” Simon informed him, clearly anything but proud of his past actions. “I was so depressed, it felt like every nerve in my body was exposed, red and raw. When I got busted at my old school for drugs, my dad thought we needed a change of scenery, so I could get clean and not have to live where my mum died... That’s why I moved here.”

“I’m sorry.” Kieren whispered, finding the courage to wrap their arms around Simon’s middle, deciding that after an admission like that, a hug was warranted. They smiled when Simon’s arms held them back. “Do you want to step outside for a bit? It’s warm in here.” Kieren eventually asked once their embrace had ended but a conversation hadn’t yet picked up.

“Sure.” Simon replied, lifting himself from the sofa before offering a hand to assist Kieren. “No problem.” he smiled when Kieren thanked him. He didn’t let go of their hand until they were outside.

Kieren sat on the stoop, looking out to the street in front of the bungalow. They turned their head and smiled when they heard Simon do the same beside them. “Hey, Simon?” they asked softly.

“Mmm?” Simon hummed in response, trying not to become too enthralled at the site of Kieren’s hair in the moonlight, even with the ridiculous antlers that Amy had placed in it.

“Would you read me the poem you wrote?” Kieren asked softly.

_It’s not very good. You deserve something so much better written about you ___Simon thought. Instead, however, he reached a hand out to take the book Kieren was holding in his lap.

___“One does not hold  
One side of a coin  
With greater esteem  
Or view it more cold  
When with others we join  
On another street.  
A mother does not view  
One child as superior  
As her other does strive  
Like as fathers there are few  
Who still grow wearier  
With son and daughter alive.  
Two sides of many  
Held in the same light  
As fair as the other  
The abundance plenty  
As the sun bids goodnight  
To a two sided lover  
Neither greater than the other.” ___

__Simon cleared his throat nervously when he finished it. He had intended for Kieren to read it later, themself, so he wouldn’t have to see them react poorly to the attempted love poem, but he also couldn’t deny them any of their wishes. They had him wrapped around their finger, and he simply didn’t care._ _

__He did care, however, when Kieren stood, an unreadable expression on their face. His heart sank, expecting them to run away, declare him a freak, anything besides what actually happened when he stood._ _

__No sooner did Simon take a step closer to Kieren than he felt their lips press against his. He tried to slow Kieren’s overenthusiastic kiss by cupping their face in his hands, holding them gently as their lips met needily. The kiss eventually slowed, Kieren pulling away with a smile plastered on their face._ _

__“Mistletoe.” they told him, pointing up to the small plant. Simon smiled and kissed them one more time, for good measure._ _


End file.
